The Witching Hour
by MissFee
Summary: A top-secret case has the MCRT on high alert. Summary sucks, yes, but hopefully the story is better! Be gentle with me, I'm a newbie :
1. Chapter 1

The nights were always the worst – that all oppressive silence that threatens to engulf anything or anyone foolish enough to venture out in it. Television and music were welcome distractions, but only as last resorts. The last thing she wanted was to become dependent on such tools, to be dependent on ANYTHING. She had endured hours – days, weeks – of torture, mental and physical torment and abuse, surely she could survive the Witching hour.

She smiled cynically to herself. 'The Witching hour,' she thought. 'Grandmother could not scare me with her tales when I was a child, why on earth do I believe in it now?' For she _did_ believe it, she could feel it in her bones – that period of time when the night was not quite over and the day not quite begun, that was to be her undoing. That was where her demons lived. Demons that thrived on her irrational fears, demons that bared their teeth and tore into her soul as she lay restlessly staring at the ceiling. Years of training had taught her to control her feelings, and to convince those around her that she was fine – but could she really keep the charade up for much longer? Each time the eyes of one of her team tried to burrow into hers, she forcibly broke the contact before her own chocolate eyes betrayed her. Sooner or later, she knew she would crack, but ever the control freak, _she_ would dictate the time and the place. Ziva sighed, and rolled over to check the LED numbers on her alarm clock. 0430, she read. 'The sun will be up soon, and I will be at peace for another day.'

* * *

By 7am, Ziva was sitting at her desk, buried in paperwork. It had been a slow week for the MCRT, and she was glad of it. It seemed that on the last few cases the team had worked, her teammates were watching almost too closely – logic dictated that they were naturally concerned for her, but sleepless nights are not conducive to logic, as Ziva knew only too well.

"Morning Zee-vah," chirped Tony DiNozzo, placing a large chai latte in front of her.

"Tony – what is this?" Ziva asked, touched but a little confused by the gesture.

"Morning pick-me-up, thought you might like it. Was tempted to get the Boss one, but somehow I think I'd prefer to see my next birthday instead," DiNozzo grinned, as he delivered the rest of the team's coffees. Ziva let out a low chuckle, and turned her attention back to her reports. "What's all this? We haven't had a case in 4 days, why on earth are you doing this paperwork voluntarily?" he asked.

"Just catching up, you know how the Director gets when forms aren't filled in triplicate," she replied, barely looking up from her work.

"That's why the Probie's been doing mine for me."

"Yes, that and he lost a bet with you. How did you know that Cynthia had a new tattoo anyway?" she smiled absently.

"Better not be the subject of another sexual harassment case DiNozzo, or you'll be on cold cases for the next six months," a gruff voice interjected, with a trace of amusement.

"Morning Boss! No, I just asked her," Tony grinned wickedly.

"Grab your gear you two, McGee's meeting us there," was Gibbs' response.

"Crime scene Boss?"

"Meeting with the SecNav at the Pentagon. Apparently too volatile for MTAC."

"And yet we're being read into it? Wonder who he's pissed off this time," Tony mumbled to Ziva as they headed towards the elevator.

* * *

"Agent Gibbs, I appreciate you and your team arriving so promptly," Secretary Davenport stood and came from behind his desk, offering his hand to Gibbs, DiNozzo, Ziva and McGee in turn.

"Well sir, you've got us more curious than anything. What's the story?" Gibbs, as usual, was straight to the point.

"It's a delicate situation Gibbs, I cannot stress enough the need for discretion. This is a highly unusual request, but then again this is how it has to be. Vance is aware that I am asking for your assistance, but he is not being read in unless it's absolutely necessary."

"The story, sir?"

"Firstly, this will not – repeat, NOT – be a typical case. There is to be no paper trail, no evidence reports, no trace that there was even an investigation. Is that clear? Good." Davenport handed each of them a plain manila folder. "For the last six years, there has been evidence that this woman is operating a clandestine mission. She was originally an MI5 agent – a spook, if you will, but she has gone off on her own agenda. MI5 are at a complete loss as to what went wrong, and they seem to have washed their hands of her. The CIA were notified, but are refusing to touch it. Intelligence indicates that she was in Afghanistan, picking off random Coalition soldiers, it seems, for fun. Unfortunately, that was two years ago. She had completely dropped off the radar – until now."

"So why us sir? You've got bigger and better resources at your disposal, how are we supposed to help?" asked DiNozzo. Gibbs glared at him, but it was more of a reflex than anything else. He seemed to be wondering the same thing.

"I need to be able to trust the team sent for the job. There's no question, you are the best team around, and the only ones I can trust," Davenport said simply.

"So where is she now, Secretary?" queried Ziva softly. She had been studying the woman in the photo carefully. She had seen the face before, but it felt like a lifetime ago.

"Our latest Intel suggests that she is in or around DC, but for what purpose we're not sure. It could be a sightseeing visit for all we know, but at the end of the day she's caused too much pain and trouble to leave this country in one piece. Your job is to find her, abort her mission, and take care of her."

"Take care of her?" Tony echoed, making a gun with his thumb and forefinger and pointing it towards his head.

Davenport nodded grimly. "Whatever it takes DiNozzo. Take her down."

* * *

"Well, talk about your fun-filled morning! I knew I should've called in sick today," quipped Tony as they walked from the office.

The headslap from Gibbs was once again more of a reflex than anything borne of anger.

"I do not understand, why is this so secretive? If she is a threat to national security, surely the CIA or FBI is better equipped to deal with this than us," spoke Ziva.

"You heard Davenport, no one else can be trusted. If she's an ex-Spook then she's surely got contacts placed in every federal agency in the world. Davenport took a big risk reading us into this, he would've been notified by the President himself," said Gibbs. "In the meantime, we need a safe place to work out of. It's too much to assume that she doesn't already know that we know of her existence. McGee, I want you to book us a safe house, sweep it clean for bugs and set up one of those super-secure computer programs you keep talking about. Anyone asks, it's been cleared with Vance. Any more questions, you send them to me."

"On it, Boss," replied McGee and he ran to his car.

"What about us Boss?" asked Tony. The adrenaline from a new case was starting to pump, and he was eager to get moving.

"You're going shopping, we need everything – wireless GPS trackers, disposable cells, new surveillance equipment, cameras, laptops, you name it. Cash only, no card. Davenport has given us enough to bankroll the operation, with access to more if we need it. We meet in two hours back at the Yard."

"What about you Gibbs, what are you going to do?" asked Ziva.

"I'm going to see an old friend," he replied, smiling slightly.

* * *

Tobias Fornell groaned when he received the text from Gibbs. Typically, it was as blunt as the man himself – _Boardwalk Coffee House, 20 mins. Alone._ One of these days, Fornell was just going to say no, forget it. Then again, he'd been telling himself that for the last fifteen years.

"What is it Gibbs, this better be important. I blew off the Deputy-Director for you," he said as he sat down.

"Can't an old friend just ask to see another old friend for a cup of coffee without there being an agenda?" smirked Gibbs.

"An old friend can. You, on the other hand, don't."

"I need a favour Tobias, and you're the only man for the job. I need a rumour spread about this woman." Gibbs pushed the folder over to Fornell, and took a long sip of coffee.

Fornell paled at the pictures in front of him. "You know who this is, Jethro?"

"I do. The Musk Rat. What do you know about her?"

"I know she's a rogue agent with an agenda that changes more times than DiZozzo changes girlfriends. She's a ruthless killer that enjoys nothing more than treating the world as her own personal slaughter-house. She's had reconstructive surgery at least three times, and is available as a gun-for-hire at the right price."

At this last piece of information, Gibbs smiled – Fornell had just handed him ammunition without even realising it. "You're going to flush her out for me, Tobias. I want you to hire her services."

Fornell snorted, then realised that the former sniper was deadly serious. "And just who exactly am I having taken out?"

"All in good time, Tobias, all in good time." Gibbs stood up, dropped some money on the table and walked away. "Just keep it under wraps until I say otherwise," he called back over his shoulder.

* * *

Tony and Ziva arrived back at the Navy Yard exactly one minute before their two-hour deadline. McGee was already at his desk, copying files and programs to his new external hard drive. All three were quivering with excitement; this was definitely a break from normal routine for them.

"C'mon Probie, we're gonna have downtime through all this, surely you can download just a few teeny-tiny movies onto that doo-hickey there?" begged DiNozzo.

"Hmm, _sure_ Tony, and then I'll let you explain to Gibbs why we're missing vital programs because there's no room on the doo-hickey," hissed McGee, fingers flying over the keyboard.

"Problem, DiNozzo?"

"Ahhh no Boss, just making sure McGoo here has everything we need," Tony backpedalled. "We've got everything you asked for, plus a few things you didn't. You done yet Probie?"

"All... finished," sighed McGee triumphantly.

"Grab your gear, let's roll!" barked Gibbs.

The three agents jumped up and headed to the elevators, Ziva lagging behind somewhat.

"David – you okay?" murmured Gibbs, coming up behind her.

She forced a smile. "Fine! It's just... this woman. I have seen her before, I just can't remember..."

"It's okay, Ziva. Anytime you want off this case, you say the word. It's only been a few months since we got back..."

"I am fine Gibbs. I promise."

Famous last words, he thought, as the elevator doors closed.

* * *

Tony DiNozzo was a man never at a loss for words, especially when it came to antagonising his colleagues. Lately though, he'd been somewhat subdued around Ziva – never quite sure what could or would set her off, so he kept the pot-stirring to a minimum. Despite all the fooling around, he cared very much about his 'crazy ninja chick' and had taken to keeping a sharp eye on her during the tougher cases since their return from Somalia. He'd seen her reaction to the photograph, and was desperate to know more.

"So, Ziva-licious, what's the deal? You know this chick from your own days as a hit-lady?" he asked cheekily as they drove out of the Yard, Gibbs and McGee on their tail.

"What are you talking about Tony, I do not know her," she hastily replied.

"Yeah. Right. That's why you've had the look of someone who's seen a ghost since we left Davenport's office." DiNozzo shot a glance at her as he drove, noticing her clenched fists. "Hey, Zi, it's okay, I'm just teasing you. You don't wanna tell me, that's fine, just so long as you know you _can_," he said with a trace of concern in his voice.

Ziva closed her eyes and exhaled; she hadn't realised she'd been holding her breath until now. "It's not that Tony, it's just... I can't," she sighed wearily. "I have seen her before, I know it, but I just do not remember where, or who she is – or was! It's driving me crazy!"

"Relax Ziva, I'm sure it'll come to you, but we got a job to do just remember that. If you can't do it, you just gotta tell us, we'll make it work, I promise." Tony captured one of her fists in his hand and squeezed gently. "We've all got your six, I promise you."

* * *

The four agents settled into their temporary home base, each one unpacking their basic necessities before reconvening in the 'conference room' – also known as the dining room. McGee had, in typical fashion, set up their new laptops and equipment to feed into a plasma that had been Tony and Ziva had bought on their shopping spree. DiNozzo had picked it out, secretly hoping he'd be able to keep it at the end of the operation – he could use it for his room, he thought to himself.

"So, what do we know about this woman so far?" asked Gibbs.

"The Musk Rat, aka Caroline Montgomery, aka Sarah Bridie, aka... well, you get the idea." McGee clicked the mouse on his laptop as he spoke, bringing passport images to the plasma screen. "Last known movements were in Afghanistan as the SecNav indicated, but there's been gossip that she's since been sighted in Bangladesh, Thailand and even the UK. No one seems to know who she is for certain, or who she works for. All that Pentagon Intel have been able to confirm is that she's definitely not one of the good guys anymore. More rumours indicate that MI5 turned on her, rather than the other way around. Her partner was taken out in the field on what was meant to be a routine op, and instead of finding out what went wrong, they covered it up. She handled it badly, and decided it was time to take matters into her own hands. Guess she thought if she was going to be a killer, she might as well be paid better for it. Revenge can only get you so far in that industry I guess."

Gibbs stared at the images on the plasma as he drank deeply from a mug of coffee. "Any ideas what she's doing in DC?"

"Boss there's no confirmation as yet that she's even here. I mean, it's a big risk to take – she's a wanted assassin, why would she chance being recognised?" DiNozzo piped up.

"But that works to her advantage Tony," interjected Ziva quietly. "She looks like an innocent tourist. It is easy enough to change hair colour, or have plastic surgery. With a properly forged passport and papers stating she's here as a visitor only, she could dance through customs without anyone even bothering to check her out."

"Ziva's right Tony. Really, what are the odds of customs officers picking up a Caucasian woman here on a tourist visa?" asked McGee. "I've started a run through the customs records using facial recognition software, but it will take time. If she's been in the country for even just a couple of days, that's still literally thousands of people to go through."

"Good McGee. In the meantime, we start looking at potential targets. Ziva, I want you to get onto your contacts, see if they've heard anything. Use a burn phone, I don't want records. DiNozzo, you put together an MO for her. I want to know how she kills, who she kills, why she kills. Get me everything you possibly can on her, including any and all alias' that are known. McGee you can help him. The sooner we catch her, the better."


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the reviews! Considering this is my first in-depth story, I'm having fun writing it. The ideas sometimes flow, sometimes not... so that will dictate how often I get to update! Oh, and I forgot the disclaimer at the start of the story. Bugger. So here 'tis! I own a pair of knee-high boots, an iPod, and my bed. That's it. Certainly don't own these guys, but I'll play nicely I promise! Oh, and I'm taking a few licences with the characters, but that's what this game is all about!**

Gibbs stood on the back patio and watched as Ziva paced the yard, clearly agitated. She was chattering away angrily in a combination of Arabic, Hebrew, and a few choice swear words she must have picked up from DiNozzo. She terminated the call with a hissed "asshole!" and promptly began to dial another number, this time switching her dialect to German. Gibbs grinned to himself; whatever problems she may have, she can certainly push them aside when the job needs doing. He poked his head back inside to check on the boys.

"How's it going in here?"

"Well Boss, considering it's only been ten minutes since you gave us a job to do, I'd say... slowly!" cracked DiNozzo. "Ow!" he cried, when the not entirely unexpected headslap came his way.

"There'll be time to be a smart-ass at the end of the job, DiNozzo, for now we need something to work on. I'll be back, I've got an idea to float by the SecNav."

Ziva came running back inside looking flustered. The three men looked at her in surprise. "Gibbs, don't go anywhere just yet! I have some news!"

"Well?"

"My contact in Germany has information, but it's going to cost. Her new name..." she started typing frantically into her laptop, "is Alesha Burnett. She's a wanted woman in more ways than one Gibbs. Apparently she clocked off the wrong people in Europe. What?" she asked at the blank looks on her team mates faces. "That is the expression, yes? Clocked off?"

"I think she means ticked off," mumbled McGee.

"Clocked, ticked, _whatever_," continued Ziva impatiently. "The point is, she's here to start a new life! She does not want to kill anymore."

"Great, brilliant! So we're wasting our time on this because...?" groaned DiNozzo.

"There's more – rumour has it, she has a child."

DiNozzo rubbed his hand over his face in frustration. "So, let me get this straight. We're supposed to take out a woman on SecNav's orders because of the fear that she's here to knock off someone important. Meanwhile, she's wanted all over Europe for whacking someone over there. MI5 and our pals at the CIA aren't touching this steaming pile of shit with a ten-foot pole. She's here to settle down and play happy housewife, and there's a Mini-Me in the picture as well! Does anyone else have issues with this?"

"Man, no wonder it got flicked to us. Crap always flows downhill," groaned McGee. "Sorry, Boss," he apologised after being on the receiving end of a glare, "it's just that with all this going on it's going to be difficult to proceed, you know? I mean, when we find her, what do we do?"

"We should just hand her to Interpol, they can play with her from there," said DiNozzo. "How is it that the Pentagon with their army of spies don't know about any of this?" he asked Ziva.

She shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe they know and are just ignoring it. They have an opportunity to take care of an international pain in the ass..." her eyes widened as a thought hit her. "What if _they_ are the ones being paid to take her out? What if we are the hired killers?"

Gibbs stewed on that for a minute, nodding slowly. "Do we know who she pissed off overseas?"

"Word is, she's annoyed a few people, but the latest one was the son of an oil baron who lives in Switzerland. The Maher family own oilfields and refineries throughout the north of Africa," she reported.

"But who's gonna get the credit for the hit? It's not like they can brag that they paid the _President_ to have someone killed, that'd really go down well with the UN," argued DiNozzo.

"They don't need to Tony, these things are generally kept in secret. That's the whole point of hiring someone to do the job," replied Ziva.

"Boss... I found Alesha Burnett. She flew into Dulles yesterday morning," reported McGee, blowing up the passport details on the plasma.

"Do we know where she is now?"

"Negative. She purchased another 6 airline tickets to Chicago, New York, LA, Cleveland, Florida and Vermont – all paid for with cash. I'll try and trace her through them but it's gonna take time. Not like they scan passports for domestic flights, but there might be some security footage."

"Good McGee, get on it. Ziva, get back onto your friend in Germany. Find out how much he wants for the intel, and also if he can get a contact for her. DiNozzo, you're with me," Gibbs ordered his team.

"Where're we going Boss?"

"The Pentagon."

"You got an idea?"

"Just a gut feeling. Remember, everyone has a price."

Gibbs and DiNozzo strode through the halls of the Pentagon, two men hell-bent on a mission. They pushed into Secretary Davenport's office, barely listening to his receptionist's protests.

Davenport hung up his phone, leaned back in his chair and cocked an eyebrow at the agents. "Back so soon? I would've thought it would take longer to tell me you have good news."

Gibbs stepped forward, and planted both hands firmly on the desk in front of him. "When were you going to tell us that we're the hit-men for the Maher family? I don't like being used, Secretary. I hate being lied to even more," he growled.

Davenport was unperturbed by the display of anger. "That information was need to know. You didn't. Need. To. Know. Now, is there anything else I can assist you with, Special Agent Gibbs?"

"Yeah, just one thing. A bit of advance warning, you could call it. We're putting out a hit of our own. If we're going to flush her out, we'll need bait. People like this are addicted – she'll want just one more before retiring, especially when the bait is so... influential," Gibbs smirked.

"Oh, yeah? And just who did you have in mind for bait?"

"You, Secretary. You're my bait."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 **

DiNozzo waited until they were safely out of the Pentagon building and in the car before he started laughing. "Boss, that was brilliant! Man, I wish I coulda taken a picture, Davenport's face was priceless!"

Gibbs allowed himself a small grin. "Yeah, I have to admit that was one of my better ideas."

"Seriously though, just how are we gonna find her and tell her about this job? She's a pro Boss, she'd be miles underground by now."

"That's where Fornell comes in. We have the bait – now we go fishing."

"Boss, you spend way too much time in your basement, you know that?"

* * *

Ziva sighed inwardly. She had been trawling through what felt like days of surveillance video, but which McGee assured her was really only a few hours, and there was no sign of Burnett.

"Why don't you take a break? You look beat," said McGee softly.

She smiled up at him, touched by his concern. "Thank you Tim, I will do that. I will just quickly check my email and then how about I prepare some food for us?" Ziva stood up and stretched, before resettling in front of her laptop.

"You're not checking your work email are you?" McGee frowned.

"No no, just my Hotmail – it's just a social one, nothing serious," she said, as she logged in. '35 New Messages' she read. Probably just adverts for medicines and porn, she thought. But there was one that caught her attention:-

_**From: **MuskRat72_

_**Subject: **Touching Base_

Ziva felt herself get flushed. Did she dare open it? It could provide some answers, or it could just be a hoax. Probably DiNozzo, she thought. No, he's not that stupid, not in the middle of a case. Maybe it's just a coincidence. Still, that's a big coincidence... Before she could think anymore, she clicked on the message. After all, she had one of MIT's finest sitting next to her, if anything happened then he would be able to fix it. As she read the email, it was almost as if she could feel the very life draining out of her...

_Ziva,_

_Long time no see! But then again, the last time I saw you, you weren't in any shape for long tearful goodbyes. Tsk, tsk. I honestly thought your Mother had drilled better manners into you as a child. You know, I was thinking about you the other day – well, more discussing you and what you've been up to. Do you remember your cousin Anthea? Hmm, such a nice girl. Nice enough to give me your email address actually. It was almost a pity to kill her, but then a job is a job, is it not? I guess you have forgotten about your past, and your actions. See, that's the funny thing – I **haven't** forgotten. So I have been patient. Watching, and waiting. I knew there was little chance of getting to you in America, but patience is a virtue after all. I was intrigued to hear what happened to you in Somalia – actually, it was quite entertaining to watch. Front row seats for some of it. Shame about Saleem though. He was quite an extraordinary man, wasn't he? A terrific lover too, from what I recall. But I digress. I'm sure you've heard the rumours that I've retired – it's true. But there will always be one more job to do, and that job is... YOU. Oh but don't worry, I won't tell you when or where. Consider it a little gift, from me to you. I OWE you Ziva, for Egypt 2001, and I promise you that I will collect._

_Much love,_

_Caroline... or is it Alesha?_

Suddenly, it felt as though the walls were all closing in on her. Ziva struggled to get a whole breath in, and began to shake uncontrollably. She slid out of her chair, crawled under the table and curled into a ball, rocking back and forth.

At first, McGee didn't notice what was happening, then he heard the scraping of a chair along the floor and turned around. "Ziva...?" He ducked under the table and gasped in horror. "Oh my god, Ziva, what's wrong? Are you okay?" He pulled his cell phone out and hit speed dial 1. "Boss, it's me," he said a moment later, "you better get back here right now..."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 – okay, so will try and make this a longer chapter to make up for the shortness of #3. Also, I know Ziva was a _tad_ OOC, but bite me. Seriously! :D I like it when she's human, and let's face it – she's clearly seen a ghost, who wouldn't crap themselves? Onwards, and upwards!

Gibbs planted his foot down on the accelerator, while DiNozzo held on tightly to the "oh, shit" bar. There was something in McGee's voice that allowed no argument, and the famous 'Gibbs Gut' _knew_ it was something to do with Ziva. Within minutes they had arrived in the driveway of the safe house and were dashing inside, only to find one completely bewildered Probie, and a near-catatonic Israeli.

"Probie! What the hell did you do to her?" hissed DiNozzo angrily.

"Tony, I didn't _do_ anything! We were watching surveillance video, I told her to take a break. She got onto her laptop to check her email, next thing I know..." McGee gestured to the shaking figure underneath the table.

DiNozzo slid the offending laptop over to him and read. As his eyes moved down the page, he let out a low whistle. "Boss, I think we just found how Ziva knows the Rat."

Gibbs looked over Tony's shoulder and quickly scanned the email. He would deal with that later, right now the priority was his girl. He dropped to his knees and crawled over to Ziva. He placed a hand gently on her shoulder, and said softly, "Ziver? Honey can you hear me?"

She turned her head slightly and looked at him. Gibbs winced as he saw the naked fear and pain in her eyes, but pressed on. "Come on Ziva, I need you to talk to me. I can't help unless you talk to me. Do you wanna go up to your room?" She nodded silently. "Okay, come on out from under here, we'll go to your room." Gibbs crawled back out and held his hand out to the shaken woman, helping her out from her hiding space. DiNozzo stepped forward to help, but Ziva flinched at his movement. Gibbs shook his head no, and whispered, "I got it, Tony. You and McGee work on that email, okay?" He saw the briefest flash of hurt cross his Senior Agent's face, but knew that he would do as asked. Gibbs carefully wrapped his arm around Ziva's waist and together they walked slowly from the room.

DiNozzo cursed under his breath. Would she ever be able to lean on him again? McGee nodded in understanding, and spoke, choosing his words carefully. "Tony, she knows you care. She knows you've got her back. She's just been spooked that's all, and right now she's just a frightened girl who needs her Dad. You and I can help by tracking this bitch." McGee placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "She'll be fine, I know she will."

"Thanks, Tim," DiNozzo replied softly. He turned around to face his Probie, with fire flashing in his eyes. "Let's get to work."

* * *

Ziva sat on the bed and pulled a pillow into her lap, hugging it tightly. Gibbs sat in the corner of the room, and waited. He was in no rush.

Finally, after a while, she began to speak. "It was April of 2001, and I was in Egypt. On my father's orders. This woman..." at this point her voice cracked, but she fiercely held back and continued. "At the time, she was known as Caroline Montgomery, an MI5 agent. She was there, monitoring the activities of a group known for their connections to Al-Quaeda. We met briefly to exchange information, only I was instructed by Eli to give her false intelligence. My father did not trust her, he blamed her mistakes for the death of his brother. Shortly after we met, she was followed and abducted. I conducted the initial interrogation. She was held hostage for almost a year before we sent her back to London. I killed her partner, he was asking too many questions after she disappeared. I felt nothing at the time, after all, it is the nature of the business, yes?" She looked up at Gibbs for the first time, desperation showing in her eyes. "I did what I had to do, what Eli wanted me to do!" By now, pride had given way to despair and she started to sob.

Gibbs didn't say anything, rather he sat next to her and cradled her in his arms, letting her cry. He gently stroked her hair and soothed her as she let the emotion of old pain and recent devastation out of her system. He had had first hand experience of what following orders meant to Ziva David, but that didn't make it any easier.

After she had cried herself dry, Ziva attempted to sit up properly, without the assistance of Gibbs or the safety of a pillow to hide behind. "Where do we go from here Gibbs?" she whispered.

"Firstly, you wash your face. Then, I suggest you think long and hard whether or not you confide in Tony and Tim. Yes," he said, interrupting her squeak of fright, "they deserve to know what is going on. They will always have your six, it's time you accepted it and let them in. I'll be right there with you. Once this is out of the way, then we can plan our next move."

Ziva let out a long sigh. "She will not stop until I am dead, you know this." It was more of a statement than a question.

Gibbs' only response was to wrap his girl up once more in a comforting hug. "There's no way in hell she will get to you, not while I'm around," he vowed.

* * *

By the time Ziva and Gibbs rejoined their colleagues, night had fallen. McGee approached the former assassin tentatively, wanting to check that she was alright but unable to find the right words. Ziva responded by embracing him warmly and kissing his cheek gently. "I am sorry to have frightened you," she said softly. McGee smiled warmly, and reciprocated the kiss, happy to see that she was if not okay, then at least a little better.

DiNozzo was next, but he was much more wary than McGee. He looked in her direction, but was unable to meet her eyes. The memory of her flinching from him was still too fresh, too raw, and he was unsure how to proceed. Ziva made things marginally easier on him by giving him a brief hug, and also a kiss on the cheek. His heart broke as he watched her duck back into Gibbs' shadow, as she seemingly drew strength from the former Gunnery Sergeant.

Ziva took a deep breath and acknowledged the two agents. "There is something I need to tell you..."

_

* * *

_

The first thing she noticed was the dust. The whole room was dusty, she said to herself as she looked around. Then she realised, it was a dirt floor. Huh. Well, that explains the dust. She spun around suddenly, hearing a low moan. Oh no! Gibbs! She rushed over to see her team leader – hell, her surrogate father – lying on the ground in a pool of blood. She tried to stem the bloodflow, but quickly became aware that she no longer had hands. There were only stumps. She heard laughter in the distance, and tried to find its source. Another moan; this time from the opposite corner. Oh no, McGee – not Tim! Poor brave Tim. She didn't know how to help. She tried to pull her shirt off to use as a bandage but it was no use. DiNozzo's voice taunted her from nowhere - "this is what happens when you leave us, Zee-Vah!" it cried, "we try to find you, and this is how you repay us? You should have died here, we don't deserve this!" Ziva tried to argue back, but could only grunt and groan. Tears coursed down her face as Saleem and Caroline appeared in the dust, making love. She ran forward and kicked at them, but watched horrified as the figure of Saleem morphed into that of Tony. Caroline looked up at her with a twisted smile on her face as she pulled a knife out of thin air and stabbed Tony in the back. "You're next!" she cackled, as the scene in front of her swirled and blurred...

Ziva sat bolt upright in bed, heart pounding and chest heaving, tears barely held in check. She looked around frantically, trying to figure out where she was, before remembering she was in the safe house, and with her team. This was not the first nightmare she had experienced since her return, but it certainly was one of the worst. Suddenly, her door began to open slowly. She flew off her bed, grabbed her gun and crouched on the floor aiming at the door.

"Ziva – ZIVA! Relax, it's just me. It's Tony," he said reassuringly, walking slowly into the room.

Her dream-addled brain processed this information as she continued to point the gun at his head.

"I heard you thrashing around and crying out, I just wanted to check that you were okay," he explained, still keeping a safe distance.

Ziva heard the words, but they still took a few minutes to sink in. Finally, understanding what was being said, she lowered her gun and sat on the floor. "I am sorry to wake you Tony. It was just a bad dream."

He stepped a little closer, reaching out to flick the lamp on. They both squinted at the sudden brightness of the room. "You okay? Wanna talk about it?"

"No! I mean... no. I am fine. Thank you for your concern," she said, effectively dismissing him.

"Okay, well if you need anything..." he said, as he turned back to head out of the room. Ziva caught the look of sadness on his face, and felt her heart break. He shut the door quietly, and she curled back up in bed and cried.


End file.
